Underneath Your Clothes
by Lady Malfoy II
Summary: *SLASH* D/H. Harry ponders his relationship with our favourite Slytherin. Has been done berfore, will be done again, but this is different from the typical fics. Oh, and I probably have the rating wrong. Sorry.


Underneath your Clothes.  
  
HUGE, BIG, FAT, UGLY WARNING!!: This is SLASH. Don't like, don't read.  
TITLE: Underneath Your Clothes  
AUTHOR: * Kate *, a.k.a. Lady Malfoy II  
RATING: Do I know? British, I'd say 15. American, I'd say heh?  
DISCLAIMER: I am not JK Rowling. I am not the WB. I am not Shakira. I am not making any money.  
SUMMARY: Inspired by Shakira's song of the same title, but actually has nothing to do with it, really. Go figure. Draco and Harry meet in a corridor and Harry ponders. Okay, so I've figured out that I suck at summaries.  
A/N: I was going to post a different fic first, but it's getting kinda long, as in two chapters has turned into five, with no signs of stopping. Because it's getting so long, I really need a Beta reader. The one I'm writing is also D/H slash (eventually). If you're interested, please e-mail me: tweetypie670@hotmail.com. Thanks and enjoy. Or don't. Whatever. I'm not going to beg for reviews- oh, who am I kidding? R&R!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Oh look," you drawl. "It's the Mudblood-"  
No, wait, let me guess. 'The potty and the weasel.'  
"The potty and the Weasel." You obligingly finish.  
Even now I am undressing you with my eyes, seeking your naked flesh. Mine.  
"Shut up!" I hear Ron cry.  
"My my, originality galore."  
Ha! You're one to talk. How many times have you called us Potty and Weasel? How many times have those words caressed you beautiful, deadly lips? It's been five years since the first time you called Hermione Mudblood. Five years. How long would it take me to walk that far?  
"Ron-" Hermione's getting nervous. How would it look if she were found involved in an argument? Head girl. Shameful.  
How would it look if we were found out? We'd bring shame to a whole new level.  
"Aw, protecting your boyfriend?" At this last word our eyes meet.  
'I'm sorry,' yours say.  
'I know,' mine respond.  
Because this is how it is. This is how it has been. I try not to think how it will be.  
Fight by day.  
Fuck by night.  
That's all it is to you. That's all is should be to me. That's all it is to you, isn't it? Fucking. Not sex. Certainly not making love.  
I often wonder if I love you. It's hard to know. Sometimes I think I might. When you're before me, naked, kissing, touching. Beautiful. But at these times I don't love you. I submit to you.  
Sometimes I know that I never will. I know it at times like this. Because we are different. We are too different. And opposites don't attract.  
You have the most strangely beautiful eyes. I have never told you that, but I often catch myself thinking it. I have never told you many things.  
I sometimes... I sometimes think you must be an angel to have eyes like that. Mortal eyes glisten with simple water. Your eyes sparkle with priceless diamonds.  
I sometimes think you must be a demon to have eyes like that. Icy. Cold to their very depths. Cold to your very core.  
But I think I like you best when you let me see you. When you let me see what no one else does. You let me underneath your clothes, yes. But what's more, you let me underneath your skin. Your shell. And I see you.  
I get to see what I doubt anyone else ever will.  
And it's at these times I think I might love you forever.  
Hermione tugs my arm. Where am I? This is what you do to me. Hermione tugs my arm and takes me off to the common room. I have no idea what's been said over the past five minutes. As I leave, you look at me. Now your eyes are masked. Emotionless. But I know. Because only I know.  
Because later on, I'll be underneath your clothes, underneath you.  
  
And I'll know that I love you with every beat of my heart, every breath I take, every cliché in the book, and for those few short hours, that will be enough. For those few hours, that will be all I'll need.  
  
Until tomorrow. 


End file.
